


Damnation

by luemeldane



Series: Blue is the color of Grace [2]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Drama, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Possessiveness, Romance, Sexual Tension, mutual feelings, repressed feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:41:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,045
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7796905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luemeldane/pseuds/luemeldane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It didn’t help that every time Ace came back from his escapades, he would pointedly search Marco’s crazed eyes and smile weakly to him, as if he was saying that it could have been him. That it should have been him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Damnation

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, never thought this one would come so quickly! The response I got for the first one made me so happy it actually inspired to finish this! 
> 
> So, this one is a little bit longer and little bit more complex, therefore probably has more mistakes. Once again I ask you guys, if you notice any mistakes in my english, warn me about it! I'm using this experience of writting in english both to expand the range of readers and to sharpen my skills with the language, which is not my native one!

Marco knew he was in trouble the moment he touched Ace’s arm. To that point he had only seen him as an energetic, stubborn and kind of naive kid. But the moment his hand touched the pale skin and he felt just how much the boy was shaking, he realized that underneath the mask was a very broken and very fragile human being. It tore his heart apart just thinking about what hardships he faced in so few years of existence - precisely the years that should be filled with innocent happiness. There was loneliness in those eyes and they had the aggravated look of someone who was desperately looking for something. It was sad, really. But at the same time he felt slightly scared, ‘cause if he was honest with himself, he would acknowledge that at that very moment he felt a magnetic pull towards the boy. He felt a sort of visceral instinct of protection. He wished he was present in the boy’s life from the beginning and that he could have fought all of his demons before they could damage him so much. 

It was very unusual of him to feel so agitated. He was usually the very definition of serenity. But now there was a warm feeling forming in his gut and spreading throughout his body. He kept looking into the pair of black orbs in front of him and he saw the walls within his soul fall apart one by one. The boy was letting him in the way he never let anyone before. Marco felt thrilled. Actually, he felt aroused. It was a very inappropriate way to feel about someone half his age and barely known and he had the decency to feel self-conscious about his reactions to the boy. For the first time in a very long time, the blonde didn’t know what to do next.

Or rather, he knew he should let go and walk away. Things were spinning out of his control and it was never a good sign. But his body was reluctant to do so, to lose contact with the milky skin that he was now hyper aware of. He put on his best facade, successfully hiding how affected he was, and offered what should be a kind and reassuring smile. That was what Ace needed right now. The boy’s eyes filled with awe at the gesture and it became painfully clear that he was not used to any kind of tenderness, that he didn’t know what to do with such a thing. Once again, Marco’s heart tightened in his chest and he was overcome with the urge to hug the small body, give him the affection he so desperately needed, but he refrained. It was not his place to do so, he had no connection whatsoever with the boy and it would only scare him away. 

He gave a soft squeeze in the brunette’s arm and then released it, stood up and left. After their conversation, Ace would need space to make up his mind about his future. Marco scratched the back of his head as he walked away, realizing with a little embarrassment that he was actually worried about the other’s decision. He caught himself wishing Ace would chose them. 

When he reminisced about that day a few years later, Marco realized that, unconsciously, what he wished for was that Ace would chose him. 

After their talk under the golden sunset light, everything changed drastically. Ace accepted the mark and joined the crew for good. He turned out to be quite the extroverted guy, always sporting a bright smile and cracking jokes about everything and everyone. He drank and ate and laughed with everybody like he was born among them. He also slept anytime and anywhere, especially after eating, which showed how much confidence he put on his now brothers. To anyone who witnessed his displays of boyish joyfulness, it would seem like all the darkness inside of him had finally subsided.

But Marco knew better. About Ace, Marco always knew better. 

It was not that Ace wasn’t happy. It was more likely that he was living some of the happiest days of his life, compared only to those spend with his brothers. But sometimes Marco caught him staring at the horizon with eyes that were too serious for such a young boy. When there was no one around and therefore no need to pretend nor please, Ace let himself dwell on those agonizing sensations that still haunted him. The feeling that he was undeserving of everything he had, the feeling that all was a cruel fleeting illusion and that, at some point, someone would discover his dirty little secrets and he would be cast aside, left behind, abandoned, mistreated, abused.

It was not rational. In his mind, Ace didn’t doubt his comrades. His faith in his brothers and his father was not fake nor feeble. But the hatred he had faced was too strong and the wounds it left ran too deep. It was clear as day in every occasion Marco accidentally came across Ace in one of those solitary moments. Marco would be strolling around the deck after getting tired of fighting his insomnia or would be on watch duty when his eyes caught sight of the figure standing alone, elbows propped on the ship’s rails, eyes lost somewhere between the darkness of the ocean and the brightness of the starlit sky. 

He would stop in his tracks and stay still, even his breath going shallow as if to not disturb or intrude in Ace’s personal moment. It wouldn’t work, never did. Ace had some sort of sixth sense when it came to him and the blond could never slip away unnoticed if the boy was around. Ace would turn his eyes towards him and smile faintly. Sometimes his eyes would be unusually wet. He never bothered to dry them or to cover his face or even dismiss the moment as something different than it was. Despite the mask he wore to the world, Ace never tried to hide his sadness from Marco. 

He knew that Marco knew. He wanted Marco to know. 

Marco’s blood would boil every time. To the point that he clenched his fists until the flesh broke under his nails. Ace was there, in front of him, hurt and exposed, showing his open wounds and unconsciously waiting, pleading with his eyes for Marco to lick them close. For Marco to take away the pain. For Marco to save him from that dark place he was trapped in. And for all that was holy in this world, Marco wanted to comply. To acquiesce to the boy's wishes. To close the distance between them and to touch the small body with his hands and lips until the only thing that Ace could remember was his taste, his smell, the pressure of his body against his smaller one. But he wouldn’t. He would never. 

Marco wasn’t a fool. Some would say he was actually a very wise man. He was conscious of the fact that the relationship he had with Ace was not one exclusively of camaraderie or fraternity. It was not the same kind of relationship the boy had with the rest of the crew. In that gilded eventide when they spoke for the first time, an unique bond was created. After that, Ace’s eyes would follow him around and his own would always fall immediately on the brunette, wherever they were. Sometimes their eyes would accidentally meet and there was a fraction of second where time would stand still and so much would be exchanged in those brief crossed looks that they couldn’t even name it. Sometimes Marco would stand a bit too close so their shoulder or legs would brush lightly. Ace would blush furiously, but would let it linger. Marco would want to kiss those rosy and freckled cheeks until the boy melted into his arms, until he came undone.

He was not the kind of man who lied to himself. He acknowledged the nature of his feelings towards the boy. He desired him in a wild and visceral way. It was not something that had developed with time, no. It was there from the very beginning. Since the first time he touched him, there was this burning and this ache in his gut, this fever that shook him whenever Ace was involved, either in fact or in thought. And there was the anger and possessiveness that overcame him when he saw Ace being friendly with someone that wasn’t family. He had to use every ounce of self control he had to keep from snatching the boy away, to keep from burning holes into the strangers with his eyes (and sometimes in a less figurative way too). But it was not only lust. There were also tenderness and love involved. He wanted to caress the pale skin, to cover it with light kisses and tender touches until Ace was whole again. Until he felt loved and needed. Because at this point, Marco needed him as much as he needed oxygen. He couldn’t even form a scenery in his mind where Ace wasn’t there. Despite his responsibilities to the crew as their commander, to protect and care for the brunette was part of his resolve as much as to see Whitebeard crowned Pirate King. 

And he was corresponded. Although still quite naive, as he should be in his age, Ace was far from innocent and pure. He had traveled the world and had tasted its pleasures as much as its sorrows. Marco had seen him disappearing into the night with both men and women and coming back disheveled and marked. It drove him mad. Fury was not a suitable word to describe how he had felt in those moments. It was way too mild. To know that someone had touched Ace, had left their trace imprinted in the milky skin, the same way Marco so desperately wanted to, made his insides churn violently and he had to walk away. He would wander into town and pick a fight or a woman to appease his anger. 

It didn’t help that every time Ace came back from his escapades, he would pointedly search Marco’s crazed eyes and smile weakly to him, as if he was saying that it could have been him. That it should have been him. 

But Marco couldn’t. As much as he wanted - and God, did he want it! - he couldn’t. Ace was barely an adult, still a boy in Marco’s eyes. A damaged boy in search for the meaning of his life and for a place in this world where he truly belonged. It wasn’t a surprise that Ace would turn to Marco, the first person to truly connect with him after his family. An older and reliable person whom could offer comfort, advice and stability among the chaos. He had let himself be vulnerable in front of the blond, showed him his torn flesh and broken bones. Acting upon his own desires was unthinkable, because Marco felt like if he did it, he would be taking advantage of Ace’s trust in him. He would be exploiting Ace’s pain to his benefit, to fulfill his own twisted cravings. Because Ace was someone unaccustomed with amorous feelings of any kind. It was very possible that he was mistaking the safety he felt when he was with Marco, the affection he had searched for so long, with love and lust. 

So, Marco never acted upon his feelings. Every time Ace pleaded with his eyes for Marco to finally put an end to their misery, he would bite the inside of his mouth or clench his fists, using the pain to anchor himself to reality. Because he was on the edge and his resolve was weakening within each passing day. Each passing minute. But he would not leave. He would swallow down his desires until they suffocated him, but he would never leave Ace’s side when he was feeling sad and lonely. Because whatever else he felt, he also loved the damn boy with all his heart and if he had to die inside to make the world a better place for Ace, he would do it gladly.


End file.
